Are happy endings impossible?

May 3rd. 2008. Saturday.

Courtnei Lotridge, age 16. Ruptured spleen, a result of mononucleosis.

Another May, another dear friend lost, another river of tears.

Why does May prove so fatal for those I love the most?

May 29th

I guess you guys all deserve an explanation as to why May 29th is such a big deal. Well, here, it's the first anniversary of the death of the two most amazing girls in the world.

It makes me cry just to think about it.

Churning

I can feel my stomach screaming.

Ever had food poisoning? It SUCKS. With a capital S (and everything else) as you can see. I got it from school food last Friday, and have it to this day. TO THIS DAY, MONDAY. It's sickening.

I can't eat fries ever again, I don't think. I'll subconsciously associate them with throwing up and laying in bed for three days.

Ice cream helps. But that's about it. So I'm gonna be sittin' here, sucking down push pops and creamsicles until my stomach settles down.

On another note...

When May 29th comes around, the entire Northwest body will lose their ablities to speak, breathe, or smile.

It makes my stomach churn, but I can't look away.

I just want to see them again... you know? Those girls that I grew up with and took for granted.

I just wanna see them and hold them and stroke their hair and bring them back to their families and friends that miss them more than life.

I think... that it was May 29th... that made us all adults.

Lichtenstein

You ever heard of a guy called Roy Lichtenstein? He was this guy who looked at pictures in art museums and said "I can do that," And he did. He made Picasso-esque women, curved metal sculptures, melted and twisted and beautiful with pre-detirmined light and dark, leaving so much to the imagination and yet so little. He looked at a woman in a comic book, the waxy pages between his fingers, as her hand was pressed to her hair, her worry expressed in her bubbled thoughts. He looked at those and said "I can do that." And he did.

Now I'm going to do it, too.

The living's easy.

I can already feel the sweltering summer sun even through the alluring breeze of Spring. Burning, melting, destroying the period of icy death that once enveloped the earth, forcing in life, only to take it away again. It shows that the sun is almighty, urging on flowers and trees then making them wither with dry heat, dry enough to take the water away from the world and make the grasses grow withered and brown, the pool all the more alluring, and the world hotter than hell.

I'm grateful for the spring breezes.